


Maybe This Time I'll Win

by ilostmyshoe



Category: Fables - Willingham
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmyshoe/pseuds/ilostmyshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Briar Rose explains that she finally found "the one" when she least expected it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe This Time I'll Win

**Author's Note:**

> written for [notthefemaledondraper](http://notthefemaledondraper.tumblr.com/) for Galentines
> 
> Sorry in advance for any character or continuity errors

This thing between Cindy and me–the way I feel about her and the way she makes me feel about myself–it’s different from any relationship I’ve ever been in before. And before you ask the obvious stupid question: No, it’s not because she’s a woman. I’ve lived for centuries. This is far from my first girl-on-girl experience. I’ve had all kinds of sexual partners over the years. One of my favorite experiences was with my band in the sixties. We took “sex, drugs, and rock and roll” very seriously and were dedicated to living up to our name: The Dirty Birds. You wouldn’t believe the things we did on that tour bus …

Anyways, this isn’t even the first time Cindy and I have hooked up. That happened shortly after we arrived in the mundy world. I almost don’t want to count it though, because we were mostly concerned with getting back at Charming by showing him exactly how many fucks we didn’t give and taunting him with all the possibilities he would never get to see. I regret the time we wasted that way, but I guess maybe we weren’t ready for the real thing yet, or at least I wasn’t.

See, that’s what I think I’ve finally found: the real thing. I don’t know if it’s the whole cliché of “You’ll find love when you stop looking for it,” or just the aftermath of my whole Ali Baba/Snow Queen debacle. I just know that for as long as I can remember there’s been a little voice in my head promising that if I just prick my finger _one more time_ then _this_ time I’ll wake up to everlasting, true love. Now the voice has finally shut up, and in the blessed silence it left behind all I hear are the echoes of Cindy saying my name with fond exasperation. For the first time in a long time I actually feel happy.

It didn’t happen right away. I was in a pretty crappy place emotionally when I made it back to Fabletown–“down on love” really doesn’t do it justice. Cindy didn’t waste time trying to cheer me up, though. Instead, after our first conversation at a coffee shop she put me straight to work. At first she had me helping out in The Glass Slipper, but after a day or two it was obvious that was a bad match. Nothing against Crispin, but as a co-worker he’s a little shit. And, as I confided to Cindy one night after a glass of wine or three, the work was painfully boring after everything else I’d been through.

She tilted her head, looked at me thoughtfully, and leaned close to whisper in my ear, “Can you keep a secret?”

My confused “Yes” was the best decision I ever made. She started taking me along on some of her missions into the mundy world, and it was just what I needed. We started somewhat slow, but soon I was in the middle of … Well, you know the kind of things Cindy does for Fabletown. It’s not the kind of work I had ever considered for myself, but before I knew it I was addicted to the adrenaline rush. I loved that feeling of getting things done, doing something _important_ that really matters and doesn’t just involve being unconscious for an indefinite period of time. And the more I worked with Cindy the more I felt like a true partner, part of a seamless unit, kicking ass and taking names as the mundies say.

Now I trust Cindy completely to always have my back, and I know I’ve earned her trust in return. I feel equally comfortable with her at a high-end restaurant, a casual night in, and in the middle of a fire fight, as long as we’re together. It doesn’t hurt that the sex is amazing. There’s this thing she does with her tongue … Words don’t do it justice. It blows my mind in ways I didn’t know were possible, and believe me when I say I’ve had quite a bit of experience in this area, so my standards were pretty damn high to begin with.

So, yeah, I’m serious when I say she’s the one. You can think I’m a flake or a hopeless romantic. Think whatever you want. I don’t care. As soon as she gets back from her latest  trip I’m going to ask her to marry  me. We’re going to live happily ever after, and your cynical self can go suck it.


End file.
